


the palm of your freezing hand

by ShyAudacity



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Concussions, Delirium, Gen, Hallucinations, Head Injury, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentioned Maddie Buckley, No Romance, Prompt Fill, Protective Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Sort Of, Whump, just a little idk its kind of abrupt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity
Summary: From next to her, Buck mumbles into the cushions, “Why’s it so loud?”Hen looks over to the tv against the wall, furrowing her brow. The first thing he’s said in twenty minutes where she can actually understand the words, and it doesn’t even make sense. “What do you mean it’s loud?”“The yelling. Don’t like it. Makin’ my head hurt.”ORFor Bingo Square: Delirium.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Evan "Buck" Buckley's Parents, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Henrietta "Hen" Wilson
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101905
Comments: 19
Kudos: 403





	the palm of your freezing hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gracieli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracieli/gifts).



> This was both prompted and inspired by the lovely Alicia (gracieli). It started out as nearly six different things and somehow worked its way into this, and I could not truly tell you how. Please tell me if I missed any tags!
> 
> Beta'd by yawnralphio (thank you much!) and title from Ivy by Taylor Swift.

He's not crazy. He's not. The walls just won't stop talking, that's all. They sound so much like his dad. Buck could’ve sworn that his parents' visit wasn’t for another few weeks, but maybe he got the dates mixed-up. He does that from time to time, forgets important things; that must be why his dad is upset with him. Then again, his dad has been known to lose his cool without much reasoning.

 _Can’t believe this,_ his father’s voice says. _Twenty-nine years old and look at you. You call this work? This is pathetic. Lying down on the job- respectable firefighter, my ass. Your mother and I expected more from you, Evan._

Buck turns away when the walls start closing in; maybe if he stops paying attention then his dad will give up and go away. It worked before when he was still living at home and didn’t have a choice about putting up with his dad’s tirades.

He can feel the pulse of his own heartbeat in his ears beating in time with the spikes of pain spreading throughout his skull, but it's fine. He's _fine_. He just wishes his head didn't hurt so much.

Maybe then he could find a way to get his dad to go away, just for a little while.

They're allotted two hours of downtime after their last _disaster_ of a call and Hen isn't going to waste it. She has a mug of warm tea next to her and no plans of getting up from the couch unless she absolutely has to. Buck is stretched out on his side next to her taking up all of the extra space left on the couch and for once, it doesn’t bother her in the slightest. She’s just glad that they get a little bit of quiet for once-

Or it would be quiet if Buck would stop mumbling incoherently every few minutes. She can’t understand half of what’s coming out of his mouth, but honestly, listening to his mindless banter is better than whatever is happening in the movie.

From next to her, Buck mumbles into the cushions, “Why’s it so loud?”

Hen looks over to the tv against the wall, furrowing her brow. The first thing he’s said in twenty minutes where she can actually understand the words, and it doesn’t even make sense. “What do you mean it’s loud?” 

“The yelling. Don’t like it. Makin’ my head hurt.”

Hen looks back to the movie again, still just as confused. “Buck, _I_ can hardly hear the movie. No one is yelling- where are you hearing that from?”

He mumbles something else that she can’t make out and Hen figures that he must be half-awake; they _did_ have two calls before the sun was up this morning. It’s not ridiculous for him to be so tired. Even so, she doesn’t understand why he would choose to fall asleep on the station's couch of all places. “Buck, why don’t you go down to the bunks if you’re tired.”

“Can’t. He’ll find me in there.”

“Who?”

“Dad.”

At first, she thinks he’s talking about Bobby- but Buck has only ever called him _Pops_ jokingly and that was a while ago. She shifts on the couch, staring down at him and trying to piece together where his head is at. Hard as she tries, she can’t make sense of any of it. Hen laughs to herself as she asks, “Buck, where are you right now?”

“I’m at home, Maddie,” Buck says indignantly, his voice coming out younger than she’s ever heard it. “Wish you were here.”

All the hair on the back of her neck stands up at once. In all of Buck’s strange moments that she’s witnessed over the years, Hen has never heard him call someone the wrong name, not once. This can’t just be him having some dream- something else is going on here.

“Buck, I’m not-.”

“Wish you could come home… Dad’s not so mean when you’re here.”

From nearby, a voice asks, “What’s he saying?”

Hen looks over and finds Eddie sitting at the table with a book in front of him. She gives him a concerned look, not knowing how to possibly explain this. She palms Buck’s forehead as she hears Eddie’s chair push back against the floor; he’s not running a fever as far as she can tell, but he’s definitely not lucid right now either. 

Eddie kneels on the floor in front of Buck, one hand going to Buck’s shoulder. Buck’s eyes are lidded and glassy when Eddie looks at him. “Buck, hey,” he says, snapping his fingers a few times, “Look at me for a minute, man.”

When that warrants no response out of him, Eddie presses at Buck’s eyelids with his thumbs until they pull back, revealing their dull color. “His pupils are blown wide.”

Hen’s fingers ghost over his head gingerly until she feels a goose egg the size of her thumb just behind his ear. Buck winces and jerks his away from the touch immediately, whining when the movement is uncomfortable; he said the yelling was making his head hurt-.

"Buck, when did you hit your head?"

“Last call, coming out of the house,” Buck says; the clarity in his voice barely lasts a second. “M’tired, can I-.”

Hen doesn’t even want to think about where that sentence is going. “No, _no_ , Buck,” she says in a rush. “You’re not falling asleep on us, not until we know how bad this is.”

In a second, Eddie and Hen have him sitting up and the pained noises that come out of his mouth make Hen’s heart _ache_. Eddie braces his hands against Buck’s forearms while Hen lets him lean against her side, holding him around the shoulders. Buck’s a little more lucid once he’s upright, but it’s obvious he's still not quite with it. He looks around the loft numbly, trying to place where he is, and fails.

Buck pushes tiredly at Eddie's arms that are holding him up, his confusion finally getting the better of him. When Eddie doesn’t let up, he leans even more into Hen’s side, pleading with her, “Get- get him off. It _hurts_.”

Eddie looks horrified at the prospect of hurting Buck even in the slightest and pulls his hands away immediately. He looks to Hen with wide eyes and she answers his question before he can even ask it.

“We need to take him to the hospital and make sure the concussion isn't any worse than it seems,” she tells him. “Chimney and Bobby have to be around here somewhere; they need to know what’s going on. Go find them then we’ll get him out of here.”

Eddie nods before he runs off, already yelling for Chimney when he reaches the stairs. When Buck starts crying against her shoulder a few seconds later, Hen feels miserable herself. His short, shaky breaths remind her of her children after a nightmare; given the things Buck was going on about and the situation at hand, she can’t blame him for being scared.

He whines into her shirt, "Sorry. M'sorry, I didn't mean to."

Hen just shushes him, letting him rest his head while they wait for someone to come. She holds his head in her hand, mindful of his sore spot. Footsteps erupt on the staircase behind her as she tells him quietly, "It's okay, Buck. I got you. You’re gonna be just fine."

For the life of her, Hen can’t imagine what things would be like if he wasn’t here anymore, and she hopes never to find out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alicia, I hope you loved this as much I love you, my friend <3.
> 
> Hey, thanks for reading my fic! Comments/Kudos are both appreciated and encouraged. Have a great day!


End file.
